Carnegie Hall, NY; February 14, 2013—Mariss Jansons and the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra of Amsterdam came to Carnegie Hall with a “heavy” German program consisting of Richard Strauss’ tone poem Death and Transfiguration, and Anton Bruckner’s glowing and gorgeous Seventh Symphony. With no concerto to lighten up the proceedings, the focus was squarely on the orchestra and the conductor.
Jansons’ reading of the Strauss was powerful in the “death” bits, at least the louder ones, but in the “transfiguration” episodes, not so much. Of course this is a great orchestra, with a Strauss tradition dating back to the composer himself. Strauss dedicated his massive tone poem Ein Heldenleben to the orchestra and its founding conductor, Willem Mengelberg. This performance, though, sounded either tired or under-rehearsed, or both—not so much in terms of gross errors, but in details such as unanimity of ensemble at transitions, and a careless non-observance of dynamics. Soft passages, in particular, tended to be too loud, while Jansons led a stiff interpretation that refused to indulge the splendor of the “transfiguration” themes. At times it sounded as if he really didn’t believe in the piece.
Truth be told, Jansons is not often given to romantic reverie. However, after the disappointing Strauss it quickly became clear that he had spent more time honing his view of the Bruckner. Aside from an occasionally untoward swiftness in the first movement, where Jansons seemed not quite to trust those typically Brucknerian pauses between sections, this was an impressive performance, particularly in the epic Adagio. The first return of the opening theme on (very cleanly played) Wagner tubas, this time with a single trumpet on top, was a sublime moment absolutely perfect in balance and expressive point. The huge final climax, complete with controversial percussion parts, was spectacularly well timed and crushing in its impact.
This is a top-heavy symphony: two slow opening movements followed by two much shorter, quick ones. The scherzo was appropriately rustic and rhythmically sharp, while the zany finale, with those huge, “dancing elephant” climaxes, captured the composer’s strange humor very effectively, and with particularly well-judged juxtapositions of tempo. Jansons quite rightly made no attempt to minimize the music’s strangeness. Through it all, the orchestra sounded far more at ease than in the Strauss. It’s always difficult to judge a great orchestra while playing on tour, under conditions that add an extra element of discomfort and, often, sheer exhaustion, but this Bruckner Seventh demonstrated that the by-now standard standing ovation at the end of the concert was well earned.
